“Well, you know, they’ll be on the look-out, and to remain at my old quarters would be too risky.”
“I don’t know so much about that. Lord bless ye, Lorrie, those fellows’ heads are as thick as a skittleball. If you’ve got clean off—which it’s pretty certain you have, seeing that you are here safe and sound and looking better than ever for your—ahem—country trip—you’ve no cause to fear. Aint the blokes after me, and haven’t I dodged them to rights?”
“Ah, but I’m not a Charles Peace.”
“Hush, silence!” cried our hero in a tone of alarm, placing his hand before the mouth of the speaker. Then in a tone more serious he added, “Drop that name for ever more. Drop it—as you love me do this. I am Mr. Thompson. Didn’t Bill tell you this?”
“I beg ten thousand pardons! Of course he did. What a donkey I am, to be sure! I am not as a rule so incautious, Thompson,” said she, emphasising the last word.
“Enough. Say no more about it, then. But don’t forget.”
“I will not.”
Laura Stanbridge now put him in possession of all the circumstances which took place respecting her escape, and wound up by thanking him most heartily for his kindness.
“Oh, bother that,” said our hero; “Bill’s behaved like a trump card, which to say the truth he is. Why, Laura, I’d trust him with my life; and if you have gratitude towards anyone it should be shown to him.”
“I shall never forget his kindness—never!” ejaculated Laura. “He’s worth his weight in gold. Indeed, I could never have believed it possible he had so much goodness in him if I had not had such unmistakeable proof of it. But I shan’t remain in London, though; so before I go I will return you the money you were kind enough to send me.”